Endgame
by Zeviz
Summary: For a Gamemaker, even his death has to be part of a show.


_AN: Contains mild spoilers for Mockingjay. A huge thank you to SWAddict1986 for beta-reading several drafts._

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><p>Ironic, isn't it? A person who used to run the largest and most extravagant show in the world is now waiting for his own turn to die as part of a massive spectacle.<p>

And a show it surely is, prepared by the best of us with the same deep understanding of crowd psychology he exhibited when planning the Games. Every detail was arranged with purpose: cameras; the lights and shadows; even the uniforms of rebel firing squads, some of which look dirty and torn, as if coming straight from a battlefield, despite the fact that real traces of battle would have been removed long ago. Other rebel firing squads, mainly the ones from District 13, have uniforms so new that they almost sparkle under bright lights, and members so physically imposing that they had to have been chosen for their size. I wonder what subtle message Plutarch is trying to send, and to whom, but it's really not my concern now. The only good thing about my position is that I no longer have to worry about the treacherous currents of Capitol politics. "Dear Plutarch" can play his games with his new masters, but my part is now that of a simple sacrifice. Or should I say "tribute"?

He must have noticed the similarity between this show and the Games: Only one of us will be alive tomorrow, but this sole victor has risen very high indeed. He is running this ceremony from the center of the stage, while his fellow Gamemakers are killed for the crowd's amusement. Oh, sure, there are important political reasons why none of us can be allowed to live. Just like there were important political reasons the Games had to be run every year as entertainingly and ruthlessly as possible. They are even talking about restarting the Games themselves, which at first I couldn't believe. But now, looking at this raging mob, I easily see the winners turning tables and subjecting the losers to the fate that sparked the initial rebellion. The hungry orphans from the Districts cheering gory deaths of overfed Capitol children... Until in a generation or two it will be the hungry Capitol children rebelling against the overfed Districts.

Oh yes, they sound very righteous, talking about "clearing the taint of those despicable games from the face of Panem". But in reality, we are no more "tainted" than the members of the firing squads about to execute us. All those tributes would have died anyway, and our job was simply to make the spectacle as entertaining as possible. Yes, some of us were true sadists, and some were just "oblivious Capitol peacocks", like the one begging for mercy right now. But most of us were simply entertainers doing our jobs. They were jobs that required a strong mental detachment, but so do those of psychiatrists, judges, and others who have to deal with human misery all the time. And people who don't learn to build such mental barriers don't last long.

An acquaintance of mine (it's impossible to have true friends in the treacherous currents of Capitol politics) used to have constant nightmares of his first Games. And after a particularly cute-looking girl died in his trap during his second year, he killed himself right after leaving the control room. Why didn't he just resign after his first Games? Well, a Gamemaker isn't the kind of job you can leave on a whim. Most people never consider it before getting the position, but once you are here, you realize that your only ways out are retirement or death. And the second one happens far too often. Just ask Plutarch's predecessor Seneca Crane. Or the man whose "accidental" death opened the way for Seneca's own promotion.

Which might explain why I am so surprisingly calm now. I knew that my death was close the moment that force field failed in the last Arena. If anything, it's a surprise that I've survived for so long. I suppose it helps that I am a well-known technocrat, who tried to stay as far away from politics as possible. Which simply means that my head will be the last one on the chopping block. Some of the more politically-involved Gamemakers were executed right after the escape from Arena, but the rest of us survived long enough to become the star attractions of the current show, my part in which is coming ever closer. An ironic way to go for a man who prefers to be the one planning the action away from public eyes.

I've always been fascinated by theater, TV, and especially the Games. Not the bloodshed, but the way Gamemakers could seamlessly alter any aspect of the environment. We might have some weather control technology, and ability to make objects nearly invisible, but it's still incredibly hard to use those crude tools to make a show so realistic that the audience could forget that everything they see was made by human hand. So when I was given an opportunity to combine my interests in technology, psychology, and entertainment by working on the most spectacular show in Panem, I jumped at the chance. And it didn't take me too long to climb up the career ladder from a common engineer to a Gamemaker.

But now the game of my life is coming to an end. And it will end on stage, rather than behind it. After all that time in the control room, I am going to die on live TV, like a Game tribute, while the same head Gamemaker is running the show. Just more proof that some things never change: The crowd roars for blood, and the Gamemakers will provide. Capitol, Rebel, Snow, Coin, all of them are the same. Even the speeches sound the same, as long as you tune out the exact words and listen to the flow and feeling, the pulse of the crowd being deftly moved by an expert voice. A crowd that has gathered to cheer the deaths of people who had, until recently, provided it with the bloody entertainment it craves. The irony is so strong that I can't prevent a sarcastic smile from breaking through my emotionless mask.

And it's with this smile that the last Gamemaker walks onto stage and turns towards the firing squad.

The last, that is, except for the man who is once again running the show.

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><p><em>AN: This is my first attempt at thoroughly-written prose, so please let me know what you think about it.<em>


End file.
